Assassin's creed: Tied blood
by ChaosBringer7
Summary: The fragmented stories of Assassin's across time, some from their beginning, to their end. Delve into the rich worlds and lore of each character, some old faces and new. Hit the center of the power struggle between Templar's and Assassin's and choose for yourself-who's got the right idea. Rated T for violence and swearing. Enjoy.
1. Connor Kenway (Davenport) I

**Assassin's creed shorts**

**Hey guys; as you can tell these are Assassin's creed shorts of various Assassin's and templars alike. Please enjoy each and everyone as I introduce new characters and review older ones.**  
><strong>Canon only to my memory. It's like a shitty Animus up there, which reminds me. It's rated T for swearing and violence. Oh and racism, please note that i am multi cultural and accept every belief as a possibility.<strong>

**ENJOY**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's creed. It's trademarked by Ubisoft.**

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><p><strong><span><em>Connor-age 65Native-American/English (Summer)_**

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><p>Connor was getting old. He truly was. Aveline and he finally settled down, despite their differences. Both Connor and Aveline had a child; Elizabeth Davenport. All three took the name of Davenport.<p>

At the homestead, there wasn't much going on other than the fact then the fact that the little village was on fire, and under pressure. Connor was dressed in his good old outfit, passed down from his dead mentor, Achilles. In memory of all he lost, the blood stain from Connor's fight with Charles, remained. "Locke!" He yelled to a fellow assassin who just took out a templar scout that was about to execute a wife and child.

"Connor! We're outnumbered! Where the hell is Ellen when you need her!?"

"Keep them away from the houses, I will find her!" With that, Connor put his hood up, covering his old, greying hair and darkening his facial hair, flecked just as much with white. He huffed and puffed, running over the wooden bridge. Ahead were two cottages and a pub, the pub was being fired on by two Templar's, wearing bulky armour and white coats, with the cross on their backs.

Connor sprinted up to them, the one closest turning around, pointing his carbine rifle right at Connor. In a rapid, fluid movement as the Templar fired, the Master Assassin slid down towards the shooter, taking out his tomahawk, slashing his legs, using his left arm to propel himself up, unsheath his hidden blade, impale the other right through his right cheek and end by spinning clockwise, swinging his tomahawk around to meet the other wounded shooter at the neck.

That whole process was something only a powerful, experienced master Assassin could achieve. "Oliver!? Are you okay?"

Oliver, the aged innkeeper came out with a flintlock, multi barrel loaded. "C-Connor. You saved my life, again. Thank you..."

"Save it when we get through this. Where is Ellen and Myriam?" last he had seen, the two girls went hunting in the frontier. And they haven't returned since.

"I haven't seen them.. Watch out!" Oliver yelled suddenly, pushing Connor back violently just as a rifle went off.

The aged Davenport watched in slow motion as he fell to his back, while Oliver fell forward at his feet, blooding running down his face- his eyes souless.

"NO!" Connor yelled, hitting the ground and grunting. He wasn't as flexible as he use to be, he was getting old. He had about five seconds to react. Everything stopped and went silent while Connor looked up at the cloudy, dark sky. Dark from the smoke coming from the fire... The fire...

Everything shimmered and then Connor could see it all. The templar on a roof top above him had a loaded Carbine. It was an early model that came out recently, half way loaded. His weak spot was his exposed chest and face and the fact that the gunner was also on the edge of the roof.

Next thing; a gunpowder barrel to his left. Also two troopers with duel blades a few metres away from said gunpowder which shimmered red, frozen in place, further down was a stream... To Connor's right was an Assassin, sprinting to his aid, shimmering blue, also frozen in place. The master assassin had to act quickly, he only had a few seconds to react so he had to decide quickly. The Assassin which was coming to his aid, would fight the swordsmen but he'd be shot at by the gunner. If Connor took out the gunner he wouldn't have time to shoot the gunpowder in order to kill the two advancing..

"Connor." a voice croaked. It was Achilles, sitting over him. He wore a big coat it seemed, all in a shimmering blue with his usual bowler hat. "Think now boy. You have two targets, and help 10 metres away. There's a weakness to exploit.. Think carefully, what just happened?"

Pain seared all down Connor's abdomen. Olliver saved his life and died in the process. With a jolt, he also realized that the innkeepr dropped his multi-barrelled flintlock. Something that Connor did not possess.

"Thatta boy." Achilles said with a proud smile. "You do me proud Connor. You truly do." He faded, noise started to return and everything was becoming focused. The time to act was now.

Yet again in a fluid motion, Connor pushed himself up into a crouching position, grabbing the dropped flintlock. He aimed to the left, firing at the gunpowder which went off with a bang, killing the two advancing predators. The bang made the gunner jump and lose his footing on the roof. With a yell, he fell head first, snapping his own neck.

Connor was surprised of the outcome but pleased non the less at the result. His company ran up to him, right on time. It was Locke again, the African Assassin that joined the Davenport colony a decade ago.

"Master! It's Cormac! He's got a ship down in the valley, the Aquilla's been shot to shit and the homestead's next! We need a plan."

Connor meanwhile was gasping for air; this was something an old man shouldn't be doing. "G-get our cannons at the ridge loaded. Send word to the rest of the Assassin's to evacuate any remaining people who are not armed."

"What about you?"

"I am going for a swim." Connor replied with a grim smile.

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><p><strong>Sorry for the fact that it's short but I hope you enjoyed anyway. If you want more let me know, i'll leave you on a cliffhanger.<strong>


	2. Anderson Alexision I

**Assassin's creed shorts**

**Hey guys; as you can tell these are Assassin's creed shorts of various Assassin's and templars alike. Please enjoy each and everyone as I introduce new characters and review older ones.**

**Thank you to everyone's who made it to chapter two, it means you're slightly interested. Leaving a review will really help me get motivated. Reviews are awesome, just like you readers. I'm making this one longer.**

**ENJOY**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's creed. It's trademarked by Ubisoft.**_

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><p><span><em><strong>Anderson Alexision (Ah-lex-she-awn)-23Australian-Irish**_

_**PERTH CITY 2015 April 13th. 8:00 Pm**_

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><p>From her vantage point, Anderson could barely see anything. She was lying under a car, after a watchman shone his torch down the road. It was something the young apprentice was not expecting. In a panic she slid under a car on her tummy, which gave her knees a bad grazing and ripped her stockings. Anderson's attire consisted of now ripped stockings, tight shorts that came to just above her knee caps allowing for some mobility. This was completed (Much to the dismay of her mentor) with long sleeved black shirt and cardigan.<p>

She was constantly warned that this attire was not suitable as an assasin as to which the only reply that she could reply with was "It doesn't arouse suspicion." The only reason she was still allowed to wear it was because of that reason, and that she was under a deal. She could wear it only as an apprentice. When she become an Assassin though, it would have to stop.

It wasn't like Anderson minded. She rolled her eyes at the thought. She was still young, she could wear whatever the hell she want. The other noticable thing about Anderson was her very short blonde hair. People frowned at her for that. It was unfair, which was why she joined the stupid creed in the first place. She believed in equality.

The guard was walking closer to the car, alarmingly close. Anderson's heart accelerated with fear. No one was meant to be out in Perth city anymore after seven since the government was taken over by Kelly black. Apparantly she was Templar who was no Prime minister of Australia, and locked down certain cities which had a strong presence of Assassin's and used all of her influence to pull the strings in pariliment, leaching money and gaining further control in England with the queen.

Meanwhile, the guard came closer and closer... If Anderson got caught again, she'd be searched for weapons.. These people weren't idiots, they knew what a hidden blade was and would know where to find it. Worse yet, they were armed with standard M1912's. An advanced version of the common pistol, capable of firing 12 shots in rapid, accuarate succession from here to Swan river. They came out in January, when Kelly took over.

Closer.. And closer... Anderson was surprised the watchman could not hear her heart. It was pounding in her ears. She had to make a move. Or not. The guard fell to the floor with a muffled grunt, dropping his flashlight with a crack and his skull, hitting the rough pavement, no doubt cracking also.

"Get out you stupid girl!" A deep man's voice hissed. It was her mentor, Jack. She was safe! Quickly and as quietly as she could, she rolled out from the car and got up, dusting herself off.

"Jack. You had me scared ther-" She was slapped across the face.

"What did I tell you about running off ahead? You deserved that." They were brother and sister of course. What else would that sort of behaviour harmonize with?

"Hey come on bro! you were being too slow.."

"Look we're not safe here. Jump up here." He indicated to the building next to them. It was two stories high, so Anderson nodded and climbed swiftly. She was a natural, just as good as Jack. She had skill alright. Once they were both up, they took refuge in the middle of the building; there was no chance people would hear them as long as they spoke quietly, music was playing off in the distance and the building they were on was clearly abanndoned.

"Alright. I need you to stop fucking around. Just once Alexis.. And I need you to just- follow me. For once.. Please?" Jack was stern, even going as far as to taunt Anderson with their family name.

"Look, I can do this on my own. I'll just stick to the rooftops and be more careful-"

"No you're not listening." Jack was frowning. In a sense it made him look powerful. What was funny is that he was 20 and he was already a master Assassin, younger then his apprentice, sister. Jack was dressed in a special type of jeans that the Assassin's developed and put on the public market in discretion. They looked perfectly normal, except the pockets were less tight, on the inside they were a comfy elastic that allowed maximum parkour and sprinting. Perfect for any assassin whilst making you blend in.

He too wore black. Except it was a shirt with an Assassin Insignia on the back, with twin blades crossing it. That was concealed by a short sleeve jacket, made of a dark elastic, compete with a hoodie. It was stylish which what made them blend it, but also was appropriate to the creed.

"Anderson. You need to follow me. We need to do this together. This isn't about some stupid sibling rivalry okay? We need to work together and you need to understand, that it can't be done alone. Especially this mission. I need your help on this one, and you sure to hell need mine."

Jack spoke in a soft irish accent, toned down a little, mixing with American. Anderson and he shared the same mother but had different fathers. They did however share blonde hair. His was a little longer and curly, but with the exception of blue eyes. Anderson had brown.

"Are you listening to me?" He asked, raising his voice a little.

Anderson shook her head. "No. Let me prove to you, I can do this for myself!" She was fuming, and ready to prove that she could be just as good as her little brother.

"No! No- look! I need you okay! Come back!" He hissed.

Anderson took off, jumping onto the next building which was of the same height, running to the other side, falling head first straight down, catching a lamp post with both her hands and sliding down it with ease. She'd done this before after all, even if she was an apprentice. Jack had a fear of heights, and would be more careful when getting down. Anderson smirked, and jogged off down the street after seeing there were no guards. She was at the police academy now, she took refuge in shrubbery and waited, catching her breath but doing it quietly.

After a few minutes she heard jogging, it was her brother of course. She let him pass while he hissed "Anderson!" He passed while Anderson waited, holding her breath. She let it go and breathed unsteadily. That was close, but now nothing would slow her down. She slipped out as quietly as she could and stuck to the shadows, slinking around the academy, and down down a flight of steps.

Shit, guards. Two of them, having a nice chat while drinking what looked like two cans of mother. Huh, Anderson liked those.

She snuck behind a Limestone wall, peaking around at the two. They were cracking a joke of some sort quietly, giggling like idiots. One of them glanced in Anderson's general direction, Shit again.

"Oi, Mark?" one of the two said quietly. "Think I just saw something." Anderson cold hear slight shuffling.

"Mm? Might just be the drink man, we've had what? Three of these now? Shifts nearly over. Let's start heading back."

After a few moments of silence.. "Yeah alright fair point. Let's go."

Anderson breathed a sigh of relief. Thanks to the animus, she got to control one of her ancestors, Locke Brown. He was an assassin. And like many in his brotherhood, had a certain ability that was called "Eagle Vision." A man by the Name of Connor taught him how to use it, which also taught Anderson... Just not very well.

She hadn't quite got the grasp of all five of her senses, being deaf in one ear and her right eye having more blind spots then a normal eye, had extreme disadvantages to something as crucial as an abillity like that.

After the two guards were half a click from her position, on the other side of a wooden bridge, going over an impressive lake, with a fountain on the left and right of it, Anderson moved out of cover, tailing them slowly.

BANG!

Dogs started barking, the two men on the bridge yelled and dropped their drinks, drawing their guns while shouts from somewhere ahead alerted them.

BANG!

BANG!

"I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS! I'LL KILL YOU!"

Anderson's heart pumped fast with even more adrenaline like she just had some mother cans herself.. That sounded like Jack.

She sprinted after the guards, not bothering whether she was seen or heard.. If her brother was killed.. Because of her... No. Don't think about it.

She went over the bridge and followed the commotion. More yells from ahead. Several people actually. She slowed down, puffing a little louder then normal. And that's when it happened- that's when everything became distorted and weird. It wasn't the eagle vision that she experienced, this had nothing to do with her senses except her heart. In the middle of the road was Jack, bleeding out. The two guards that she saw earlier, were in pursuit of a hooden man in black. Another person- a woman was standing over Jack, a dark smile on her face. She looked.. Demonic. And it terrified Anderson. It looked up at her, and flickered.

Her face was beautiful.. But there was something creepy and dark about it. She dissapeared, then Anderson ran forward to her brother.

"Jack!" She screamed. "Jack, please answer me!" She checked the wound, a pulse, and his eyes. He was gone. And he was not coming back.

"Please no.." She cried. "Please.. I love you! Jack i'm sorry! I love you please don't leave me!" But no one could hear her.

Slowly she got up. She had now two targets to kill. The original target, Kobie and now her brothers killer. She scooped up her brothers bandanna, and dipped it in his blood, wrapping it around her forehead as a permanent reminder that this was on her. And the killer.

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><p><strong>Sorry about the lack of action. Wasn't too sure where I was going with this one. I decided to do another right after the first though. Connor I think will be up again next. Let me know what setting you want to see or Character and I'll try putting something together.<strong>

**Thanks guys. Have a wicked day.**


	3. Connor Kenway (Davenport) II

Assassin's creed shorts

Hey guys; as you can tell these are Assassin's creed shorts of various Assassin's and templars alike. Please enjoy each and everyone as I introduce new characters and review older ones.

ENJOY

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's creed. It's trademarked by Ubisoft.

Connor-age 65/Native-American/English (Summer)

It was easy really to get to the stern of Cormac's ship. After Connor and Locke went seperate ways, the Latter went to load the cannons while the Master Assassin went down to the stream and followed it to its edge. On his way, he luckily ran into Myriam and Ellen.

"Where have you been?" He barked angrily, then coughed a few times.

"Connor, they're all over thee place, we've been setting traps and taking a few of them out from the tree line." Ellen spoke up, calmly.

"We've got about a dozen, they've got a convey and now a ship. It's Cormac's master... He's here." Myriam added.

"We have few assassin's in the homestead and it is about to be bombarded. Oliver is dead and I am sure more will follow. Go!"

There was a moment of silence, and they ran to the homestead quietly. Ellen stopped and turned around.

"Connor? Aveline and Beth.. Are they..?"

"Yes." He nodded, speaking softly. There was a crack of several cannons and an explosion close by.

"They are not cruel enough to bomb their own troops, make sure everyone has gone underground then follow them. I will meet with you there. Go."

Ellen nodded and ran off. With a grunt, Connor took off at a steady pace to get behind Cormac's ship. Nathan Cormac. Shay's son, whom became grand master of the Templars has been hunting Connor for years, in search of the secrets. The secrets too the Assassin's spread across all of the nations and his own journal, which was leaked by someone he once called friend.

A single cannon shot fired and Connor, from the top of a high branch, over looking the scene, could see Locke had opened fire on the ship. It his the port side, non critical but would serve another round of cannon fire.

Connor let out two high pitched, Eagle whistle which indicated cease fire to all of the Assassin's in the homestead, just as Cormac's ship "The conquer," opened fire. It was a terrible name, but that was irrelevant. The grand master dived in an elegant leap of faith, smacking into the water quite hard, but it wasn't too high up.

He swam towards the stern of the ship underwater, and quietly ammerged from a few metres away. Connor waited until it fired yet again, and he clambered up the back as water dripped into the water loudly. But at least it was muffled.

"Load!" Nathan commanded in a booming, Irish voice. "Give 'em extra shrapnel in this one." The crew jeered and proceeded to load the cannons. The Grand master climbed up further to the top and peered over. There was activity on deck, with people running everywhere, loading cannons. But their focus was on the top of the ridge that was the homestead. So far, all of their shots had fallen short, hitting the edge of the homestead. Nathan noticed this too.

"Aim higher men! give her some speed!" With a lurch the ship swung left, losing height but gaining distance. Connor held on and climbed over the railing as they fired again. From a distance he saw that the two cannons over looking the river fell down onto the bank. Locke had luckily heard the signal or he'd be dead without a doubt.

"Load! I want that homestead wrecked!" Nathan snarled.

"What of the books captain?" The quatermaster, a female in her thirties asked.

"If Connor's still got his wits, he'll already be behind me."

Nathan half turned and saw him from the corner of his eye.

"Called it." He jeered as the crew laughed.

Connor sprinted towards him, his tomahawk out, taking a vertical top to bottom strike. Nathan deflected the blow with his fleece upon his wrist and punched Connor right in his face.

He stumbled back, his hood falling and his nose gushing with blood.

"Jesus Kenway. You've gotten old." Nathan chuckled. "Men! Swim to the banks and make your way to the homestead. Burn it down and kill everyone. This old clot's not dumb enough to have the books there."

The majority of the crew jumped out of the ship towards the bank where a hill would bend around to the homestead. "It's not Kenway." Connor growled, recovered in a battle stance, tomahawk and knife.

"Your contractions have gotten better '"Kenway.'" Nathan chuckled as Connor rushed him again and Nathan drew his sword, deflecting the tomahawk uppercut but not the punch to the face.

"Hah!" The old Master Assassin mocked like a child, before retreating a few paces back. It was just these two now, alone on the ship, shouts could be heard from the homestead. He looked up, whistling four times and paying for it with a slash to the sternum. He backed up to paces while Nathan did also. He wore the same outfit of his father- how fitting.

"Not everyone to kill me are you Shay?" Connor smirked darkly. Nathan growled but stayed put.

"I don't attack when provoked like you. But I will hit har-FUCK!" His left cheek was sliced open then Nathan was pushed forcefully back. Hopefully the whistle that Connor just gave had worked. It was a signal that said attack and defend. Sure enough, there was more yelling.

"Keep your eye on your opponent. Your father from what I heard was not good at that." Connor said in a monotone voice.

"Shut your face Kenway! Shut it!" Nathan was pissed now, and rather then making him a blind idiot swinging a sword, it made him a more worthy opponent.

He lashed out violently, swinging his blade in an arc of true beauty. Something only a skilled, young adult could pull off. Still, Connor just managed to deflect all of the shots except the last one, where his left arm was cut open.

"Argh!" It sent him stumbling sideways but he recovered quickly. Now Connor leapt forward, horizonally sweeping Nathan's abdomen. The slice was deflected with his arm fleece and parried with a knee to the stomach. With a grunt, the Assassin dropped to his knees then rolled to the right side while the Templar stabbed his deck.

"Stay still!" He growled, advancing Connor as he barely got up; the latter was huffing. "Not today Nathan, not until one of us falls!"

As a last ditch attempt, knowing that Connor himself was nearly defeated, and the homestead as well- he threw his Tomahawk. It went in slow motion, and everything muted. His eagle sense was kicking in again, slowing Nathan to a shimmering red stop, the Tomahawk was white and the Homestead glowed with more red then blue.

It swung ever so slowly, as Nathan very so slowly brought up his sword. But it wouldn't make the parry in time. Rather than dodge, the Templar had doomed himself. It connected with right eye, and everything resumed as if nothing happened.

"ARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!" Nathan dropped, clutching at the Tomahawk with both hands, his sword dropped like himself. Connor advanced slowly.

"Call them off." He growled.

"Never!" Nathan growled back with equal measure. In one fluid motion, he plucked the tomahawk from his eye, grabbed his flintlock and fired right at Connor's privates. Now the tables had turned; the Assassin was on the ground and the Templar was above him, another shot in his pistol left.

"Any last words Assassin?"

Connor looked up at his face, the last thing he'd ever see. "If I do not kill you- then someone else will."

BANG!

He dropped, and so did Nathan.

Thanks guys. Sorry for yet again a short update. Leave a review if you have the time. You have no idea how much it helps me.


	4. Damacus Spite I

**Assassin's creed shorts**

**Hey guys; as you can tell these are Assassin's creed shorts of various Assassin's and templars alike. Please enjoy each and everyone as I introduce new characters and review older ones.**

**ENJOY**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's creed. It's trademarked by Ubisoft. **

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><p><span><em><strong>Damacus-age 27Roman empire-centurian/236 Anno Domini**_

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><p>"Damacus! BROTHER! Aha! Long time, no see!" Damacus, the young Roman centurion was clapped on his back, being pulled into a very tough hug from none other than his older brother.<p>

"Asther!" Damacus bellowed, clapping his brother's back in return, giving a hearty laugh.

"How I have missed you!"

"And you Damacus! Come on, there's some people i'd like you to meet." Asther lead his brother on wards into the thick of the party. Tonight, Centurions and friends gathered at Asther's villa, to celebrate the defeat of the barbarians. It was a brutal battle. something Damacus was part of. His first ever battle; It was as brutal and violent as he anticipated. And he loved it.

"My wife, Aurella." Asther grinned, pulling a rather attractive girl in her early 20's it seemed towards him.

"I see." Damacus took Aurella's hand and kissed it, bowing slightly. "I don't know what you see in him Aurella, but whatever it, praise the gods that it lasts 'till death."

"You cheeky bastard!" Asther laughed merrily, taking a swig from his chalice. "The banquet begins soon brother. Aurella's a mute, so don't mind her if she does not speak." Aurella seemed a little embarrassed rather then upset. Damacus could understand that. So he simply nodded.

Asther kissed his wife on her cheek and murmured "I'll see you at the feast.." Then in a louder voice. "Brother! Come, I wish for you to meet the Centurion that saved my life."

"A pleasure meeting you Aurella." He bowed slightly with a smile and took off.

Romans everywhere, were getting drunk in full, bloody Armour, feasting on men and women alike, along with food and drink; a typical Centurion party. Asther led Damacus through the drunk people, towards his house.

Once inside, Asther led Damacus away from the hall where plates of food were being prepared, down a hallway and through two doors.

"No one saved your life tonight Asther. What's this about?" Damacus asked, trailing behind all curious.

"I needed to show you something. It was the first excuse I could think of." Asther was serious, and whenever he was serious something was up.

"So? What brings this curious behaviour?" Damacus asked, folding his arms while his brother unlocked a rather impressive looking door, splattered with beautiful patterns of gold.

"Come on, and i'll show you." They went inside to reveal the master bedroom where a bed lay on the other side of the room, a balcony to it's left, the ground made of marble and to the right; Another door. Asther went to the door, unlocked it and told Damacus to stay put.

He closed the door behind him and all went quiet. Damacus walked to the balcony that over looked the city of Brazia. It was a small city, that not many people knew about. It was east of Londinium, a major city in Rome. Far below, the party continued. Damacus could make out a few familiar faces. He grunted in amusement, remembering the battle that took place almost a day ago. The Centurion jumped in alarm as the door to his right opened.

"Brother, come here." Asther grunted, holding a big chest, twice his width, which was saying something. With a heavier grunt, he dropped the chest at his feet.

"It's unlocked Damacus, take a look." As he came over and opened to observe the contents, his brother spoke.

"You asked why I dissapear in the thick of battles brother? This chest will tug at your interest. Ask when ready, we've got all night."

Damacus pulled out a weird looking instrument indeed. It looked like an arm guard, but with a curious contraption. On it's side was a little lever. Curiously, Damacus twisted it and it immediately flew from his grasp, hitting the and of the armlet, while in one fluid moment, a blade previously concealed, revealed itself rather violently.

"What godly contraption is this?" Damacus muttered.

"We call it the ghost blade. It's a tool I use to strike enemies before anybody realizes. Useful as a final attempt to slay before dying." Asther's arms were folded, watching with amusement.

"A dirty tool? I thought you had honour Asther. This tool gives you an unfair advantage." Damacus put it aside, delving deeper into the chest.

"Think what you like brother, but it's saved many lives. That in itself I think shows much honour. Don't you agree?"

"The chest is awfully empty." Damacus pulled out a black cowl, attached to a right shoulder pauldron. "I recognize this. You wear this in battle." He fiddled with the hood at the back of the cowl then placed it next to the Ghost blade.

"Yes. It doesn't hurt to have a bit of extra shade against the sun, nor to have more armour." Asther smiled, picking up the Ghost blade, pulling the lever back then twisting it with a click. It seemed to lock the blade, safely from sight.

The last thing within the Chest was an odd insignia. It seemed to be some deformed "A."

"What's this?" Damacus held it up in interest.

"The Assassin's insignia." Damacus looked confused as Asther took the symbol from him. "I wear this to battle on the cowl, but it's not too easily noticeable I guess.

"Why do you show me these things?" Damacus asked with curiosity, while his brother put everything back neatly.

"You've been to your first battle now Damacus. It's about time I show you to the brotherhood. Within months, all will become clear. Come, we have a celebration to attend."

3 years later

"_CRUUUSSSIIIFFIIIX_!" Damacus yelled out, sprinting in full armour, his short brown hair spiking up in the wind as he rushed through soldiers, battling the remnants of the Centurions under his command.

Crusifix; A power hungry Templar and Senate with dark skin, over looked the battle on the other side of the courtyard, on top of the stairs. Damacus had to get to him.. Make him pay for what he did.

"Arrghh!" Damacus' cowl billowed as a flurry of twists and turns, transformed him into a tornado of fiery hell blades. He impaled a roman traitor through the neck with his left blade, right the way through, blood spraying everywhere. With a clockwise, he threw his right handed blade to the left, parrying a vertical shot from yet another traitor whilst grabbing his other blade, stuck in the traitor's throat and ripping it out, continuing to spin, slashing open the neck of the Roman just parried.

In that one 360 degree spin, Damacus was on track again, sprinting down, dodging and weaving between fights, slashing where he could to help his brothers.

Just ten meters from his target now, two heavily armoured traitors advanced him with poisoned tipped spears. One thrusts which was parried, but the other lunged as well. Damacus just barely parried that attack too, forcing to back up a few paces.

"You're dead Damacus." The man to his left growled in a deep voice.

"Not before you feel the wrath of the gods, traitors!" He roared, advancing upon them once more, ready to kill all who stood in his way.

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><p><strong>Another roman Assassin? Awesome! Throughout Damacus' story there'll be flashbacks to fill in gaps and explain more back-story. Once this project is done, it'll be a lot of stories, each one with a beginning middle and end.<strong>

**Please leave a review, I love support and it motivates me. Enjoy your day!**


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